What elements are needed to be good at a game?
First, it would be nice to have a good brain. You can quickly absorb information about game characters' traits, skill sets, and various scenarios.
But there are fundamentals that come before that. Quick reaction time, precise skill accuracy, and character control ability. In League of Champions, they call this "physical," and overseas it's often called "mechanics."
At minimum, you need to be above average in these areas to become a professional gamer. No matter how brilliant your strategies or how well you can predict your opponent's movements, if your basic abilities are lacking, it's ultimately impossible to fulfill that role.
Having quick reactions means three elements are working in harmony. First, you need good dynamic vision. Second, your brain needs to process the information from your sensory organs quickly. Third, your body must move promptly according to your brain's decisions.
If any part of this process is slow, you're far from having quick reactions. Conversely, when these abilities are solid, you can benefit from fast reaction times in real life too—like catching food before it hits the floor.
And that applies right now. The woman has pulled out a kitchen knife. This is a different level of threat compared to being hit by my father, Badro, that restaurant lady, or that quack fortune teller.
When I realized my life was in danger, all my senses focused on her movements.
"What did I do so wrong?!" she screamed, charging straight at me.
Thankfully, because of our close proximity, she couldn't build up much speed. So when she first swung the knife, I could see its trajectory with my eyes.
It was slower than the skill shots constantly flying around in League of Champions. Of course, having to move my actual body rather than just clicking a mouse made it trickier, and being in a wheelchair was a disadvantage.
But life is unfair by nature. And unlike when I was surviving on one cup of ramen a day, thanks to people's meddling, I'm now well-nourished.
I had enough strength to move my body quickly, not just my fingers. So I dodged by simply jerking my head backward.
Whether she aimed deliberately or swung wildly, I don't know, but the blade was targeting my neck.
"You join the team on your own and then—!"
If it had hit, it would have been fatal. But having dodged it, she became more agitated and her movements grew larger. She really was intent on killing me.
Still, dealing with someone who's lost their reason is somewhat easier to predict, even if more dangerous. In games or real life, their movements become monotonous, more honest and exaggerated, making them easier to read.
I dodged the second knife strike too. The trajectory was slightly different, but again aimed at my neck. I managed to avoid it by twisting my body significantly. The limited space of the wheelchair wasn't even a penalty against attacks of this level.
The only regret was that if I'd learned self-defense, I could have grabbed her extended arm and restrained her impressively. While I could dodge, my hands were stiff, and my body wouldn't move properly.
It was frustrating that despite being calm enough to analyze the situation in real-time, my body wouldn't obey me.
"I wrote an apology letter! Who do you think you are to be so arrogant?!"
Then came the third knife strike. This one was dangerous—a deliberate stab aimed at my stomach. I couldn't dodge this one. I needed to block it with my arm or alter its trajectory.
With that assessment, I reached out my hand but hesitated. I couldn't injure my hand. What if I needed to compete soon? Injuring my hand would end my career forever.
That moment of hesitation made me realize I was too late. It's that feeling you sometimes get playing League of Champions—the realization that no matter what you do, you're going to die. That's what I felt right then.
I gritted my teeth, bracing for the pain, when—
"Damn it, you're being ridiculous. Why blame him when you're the one who screwed up?"
I heard Hyunseok cursing beside me—something I'd never heard from him before—and the knife stopped just in front of my stomach. Hyunseok had grabbed the woman's arm to stop her.
Ah, right. I wasn't alone. No matter how much Hyunseok complained about getting older or not being what he used to be, he was still an active professional gamer. That meant his reaction time was naturally faster than average.
That's why he could catch the knife the woman was swinging. He was watching the same thing I was, reading its trajectory.
"Why? Oppa should be angrier! This girl is trying to steal your position!"
"I don't care as long as she helps our team win. If anyone's trying to make our team lose, it's you."
Hyunseok saved me. Because of that emotional gratitude, I belatedly realized what was happening. Something was dripping from the knife that had stopped in front of my stomach. Something red and sticky.
"Uh... blood..."
"Ah..."
When I muttered that in a daze, the woman's face went blank, and she dropped the knife.
Hyunseok opened his hand that had been gripping the blade, letting the knife fall to the floor. Only then did security personnel who had been rushing from a distance finally arrive and grab the woman.
"My goodness, Player Kang Hyunseok, use this to stop the bleeding! Bring the first aid kit!"
"Yes!"
"...There's a first aid kit in the drawer under my wheelchair. It should have a tourniquet and disinfectant."
In the midst of the commotion, I dazedly mentioned the items Gabi had insisted on putting in my wheelchair, saying women always keep such things in their handbags.
Hyunseok had injured his hand. His right hand, at that.
"Hey, are you okay? You're not hurt?"
He was trying to act nonchalant, asking me gruffly like that. But his hand, which should have been clenched tight to stop the bleeding, was trembling as he held it open. Something was seriously wrong.
"...I'm fine, but your hand..."
"Ah, looks like I won't be playing in the next match."
Despite everything, Hyunseok remained so calm. I was shocked, sorry, and grateful all at once. As I stared at his face, unable to say anything, Hyunseok added with a slight smile:
"Can't be helped. Noel, you'll have to go in my place. Carry us to victory, will you?"
How could he be so composed? I was too scared to even reach out my hand for fear of ending my career. Looking at his trembling hand now, it seemed worse than I'd feared. Not only might his career as a player be over, but if he'd damaged the muscles, he might have to live with the disability for the rest of his life.
Yet he could still smile like that?
I didn't know what expression I should make. Should I smile back at him? Or should I cry as my emotions welled up?
"...I definitely will. But first, you need proper treatment."
I couldn't do either. I just gritted my teeth and spoke resolutely.
Meanwhile, an ambulance and police car arrived together. The woman, who was staring blankly at Hyunseok's injured hand, was taken away while muttering to herself.
"It's all because of that bitch... because of her, Hyunseok oppa's hand is injured like that..."
"Hey, thanks. Thanks to your knife work, I can retire now."
Hyunseok tossed those words at her as he headed toward the ambulance. Hearing this, the woman's legs gave out despite being held by the police. She staggered and then seemed to pretend to faint, being dragged away.
How strange. Someone who was so enthusiastically slashing at others with a knife falls apart when Hyunseok gets hurt by the blade she wielded?
...More than anything, how was I going to explain this to our team?
Left alone, I had my own worries now.
But how to explain? When have I ever been good at making up stories? I just returned to the player waiting room and told them everything honestly.
The fan who came for my autograph was actually someone with enough malice to bring a knife. Hyunseok injured his hand blocking the knife she was swinging. He'd been taken away in an ambulance, but I didn't know how serious it was.
As soon as they heard this, all our team players rose from their seats with worried expressions, looking ready to follow him to the hospital, but our coach stopped us.
"You all keep watching the matches and learn what you can. I'll go to the hospital. His life isn't in immediate danger, right?"
"...No. But judging by how much blood there was, it seemed like a deep cut. If it cut through hand muscles..."
"Getting injured while saving a girl—that's a glorious wound. That guy, he's going out in style."
"Coach, Hyunseok isn't dead! When you talk like that, it sounds like you're talking about someone who died!"
"It's just a figure of speech. Anyway, everyone keep watching the game."
Was that joke intentional? Thanks to the coach making such an odd comment that allowed the players to let out an incredulous laugh, they soon became immersed in the game again, their expressions turning serious. Not that they weren't serious before.
Meanwhile, I found it hard to concentrate. After all, wasn't Hyunseok injured because of me? While trying to save me.
Still, thanks to the habit of forcing myself to focus in class during my school days, I stared at the screen with a furrowed brow for the next game. We needed to analyze the opposing team we would eventually face to increase our chances of winning. This was how I had to keep my promise to Hyunseok.
We are professional gamers, after all.